


Lament in the Cathedral halls

by Luminimanoise (twirling_ribbon)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Comfort, Crisis of Faith, Ferdinand tries to deal with religion and Hubert makes it a little better, Fluff and Angst, M/M, References to the past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 14:31:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twirling_ribbon/pseuds/Luminimanoise
Summary: Ferdinand feels distressed by one of the church holidays approaching. How can he show his face to the goddess after everything he had done? After what he became? And yet, on the day of the celebration, he finds himself on the way to the cathedral in the dead of the night.





	Lament in the Cathedral halls

**Author's Note:**

> So, I didn't play BE route yet, so the portrayal of the characters may be OOC, because most of it is an image I got after reading other fics from the tag so sorry about that. I just wish for them to be soft. 
> 
> And I have this headcanon that Ferdie was really close with his faith before the war but now it's just a big burden and stress for him, he can't practice it as he once would and it's weighing him down. It's just one shot so I didn't exactly write a deep analysis of it. Maybe some other day. 
> 
> That's all, hope you enjoy!!

It wasn’t often that Ferdinand couldn’t sleep. Most of the time, battles of prior days or stacks of paperwork left on his desk were enough for him to lose consciousness the moment his head had hit the pillow. Not that night though. His lungs couldn't fit enough air inside of them, his legs were restless, he couldn't even sit in one place for more than five minutes. Ferdinand's face was pale, he was catching glimpses of it in a glass he was passing on the way, and yet it burned when he touched. He should feel concerned, but apathy leaked into his heart, leaving him impassive.

It was one of the minor church holidays that day. Of course, nobody celebrated. Fallen church, fallen goddess. And there was simply too much to do with the war going on, trying to keep the Empire in a stable state, serving people of Fódlan... even those who still stubbornly clung to their faith forgot all about it. He shouldn’t be there either and yet he was. His traitorous body was leading him straight through the bridge, right to the cathedral. 

His feet clumsy tangled and he was tripping over himself so he stopped, just for a moment, to glance at the sky. Crips air of mountain range entered his lungs, made him take a couple of deep breaths. Stars were especially bright that night. In fact, Ferdinand could almost feel their warmth on his skin. It was a somewhat comforting thought, with the chill of the night, slowly seeping into his bones. 

He didn’t bring much. Nothing actually, just the last couple of minutes of a candle. It was bright yellow, scented with vanilla and some flower. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t a proper offering. Still, it was better than nothing. 

And yet Ferdinand couldn’t help but curse silently, in his head, that he didn’t bring his coat or at least some warmer shoes. He was far too scared someone might hear him sneaking out, so he left his riding boots in his room, choosing soft slippers. Unfortunately, those worked only for wooden floors of bedrooms, not raw stone bricks, that haven’t been warm in ages. 

So shivering, with an annoying tremor in his hand, whether caused by cold or anxiety, he finally reached the monumental steel gate. 

Chills went down his spine, just like the first time he’d been here, as a young boy, celebrating his first festival at Garreg Mach. Then it was anticipation, excitement. He was finally big enough to travel so far from home! His father had agreed to take him with him!

Now, there was only fear and guilt, making his skin crawl and nausea trying to claw its way out of his stomach. 

The cathedral was covered by darkness, it crept from every side. A small flame of his candle barely helped him find his way to the main altar. Or the place where it once stood, now ruins and wreckage. Such a sad sight. Ferdinand could only sigh and try to remember what a beautiful work of art had it been all those years ago. 

He crouched down and set a candle on one of the stones. He wouldn’t kneel, that would be too much and far too disrespectful. Still, he clasped his hands together and tried a simple prayer. His mouth couldn’t exactly recite all of the words, his practice abandoned and brain too focused on the sacrilege of the act to remember correctly. He tried one more time, and then another. Soon words were spilling out of him, years and years of loneliness and being lost. 

It was silly. It was outright stupid. 

But he missed it. He missed it so much. This security the goddess provided. Someone who listened, even if more than half of the words he tried to say never even left his lips. She was great support for him for oh, so many years. When his father's curt words and swift hits were too much to handle. When his responsibilities kept him from his passions. When his insecurities cut him deeper than any weapon. When he was so lonely he couldn’t manage his heart nor brain to calm down. 

And here he was, a heretic, abandoning her, fighting against the church, the faith, coming for a celebration with a quiet prayer and some leftover candle-end. _What a joke of a believer,_ he huffed a bitter laugh.

The church was silent around him. Even birds that made the holes in a roof their homes didn’t make a sound. Rats, that he knew were running in the naves just outside of his sight, almost seemed as if they were trying to give him this moment of peace. He was grateful.

Ferdinand should feel unsettled by the darkness that coiled around him but there were scarier things in this world. After years of war, it was more comforting than anything else, to be able to sit and think, even if his thoughts weren’t in the happiest place at the moment. 

The flame blinked and gone out, just like that. He finished one last prayer he wanted to present and let himself breathe some more of the fresh air. It smelled of rotten wood and animals that lived in the abandoned building, but there was a hint of rain that’s fallen the day before and paint, slowly peeling off the walls, too. 

It almost felt as if he was the only human left in the world. 

And then something heavy but soft landed on his shoulders and made him jump up in alarm, whipping around, his hand grabbing for a sword that wasn’t there and argh- why didn’t he bring anything actually useful? 

„Hush.” reached him, low and soothing. A gloved hand, he knew, grabbed his arm and brought him closer to the source of the voice. The subtle smell of coffee and cinnamon seemed to chase away all the unpleasant smells of the dilapidated building, so he dared to snuggle closer, knowing well Hubert wouldn't push him away. 

And he was right, soon the hands were straightening out a coat he threw over Ferdinand’s shoulders, and then going around his waist, locking him in a hug. 

„Normally it’s you trying to coax me to go to sleep. It almost feels wrong to have to seek you out to do the same.” 

„Just needed some fresh air.” Was Ferdinand’s only reply, even though he was sure Hubert had been watching him quite some time now, most likely heard him spouting nonsense. The candle didn’t even stop fuming yet. „Did you finish your work?” Hubert only hummed non-comically, yet when Ferdinand didn't continue he decided to answer. 

„There’s still some left, but I’ll do it once we’re in our chambers.” The man said, slowly starting to back away toward the exit with Ferdinand still in his arms. 

„Noo.” Ferdinand whined. Clearly, the tiredness was getting to him. His hands grabbed the back of Hubert’s cloak tighter, trying to stop him. He didn’t do it in the end, even though both of them knew that he would be able if he really tried. But, truth to be told, he wanted to go to bed and wake up the next day, devoid of his faith once more. Stop worrying about yellow wax staining the stone in front of an altar. 

Gentle tugs and sighed words of encouragement got him only to the end of the bridge, where the first tear fell down his face. Then the second, and the third. It wasn’t combusting into a crying mess as he had done once over the birth of a baby pony. It was just... water spilling over his lids at a steady pace. Ferdinand felt the corner of his lips twitch, and he hated that. 

Once again gloved hands came closer, cradling his face, smearing tears all over his cheeks. Hubert was doing a really poor job as a tear-wiper, but Ferdinand was happy nonetheless. He put his hands over Hubert and sniffled, only a little bit pathetically.

„What happened?” 

„Nothing. It’s nothing. Just... I’m acting like a nostalgic fool. I will forget about it tomorrow morning either way.” And he looked into Hubert’s eyes, where all the stars were reflected and twinkled with his every blink. Eyes filled with concern. „Take me to bed.” Ferdinand said instead, tucking his head neatly into a crook of the man’s neck as if it always belonged there. 

„As you wish, love.” 

After Ferdinand changed into his nightclothes and even managed to convince Hubert to join him under covers, a wave of tiredness finally hit him for good. He'd let out what needed to be let out so he felt lighter. Still awful, but it was bearable enough to let him sleep, at least. 

He laid in bed, his lids closing and opening groggily. He tried to keep his eyes on Hubert, as he was falling asleep too, clearly sleepy. Sleepy Hubert was truly a blessing. 

His hand lifted as if on its own and landed on the man’s cheek. Ferdinand circled small shapes on his jaw, scraping some stubble that somehow managed to grow, even though he knew Hubert would shave it right off the next morning. His thumb stroked his nose too, just for the fun if it, as Hubert would scrunch it with a distaste. 

„Weren’t you collapsing from exhaustion? Go to sleep.” 

„How could I? It’s such a rare sight, to see you like this.” His voice came out so soft that even he himself felt embarrassed. His face had to match his hair with how warm it became in a span of seconds. Curse his complexion! 

His hand didn’t stop its movements though. 

Hubert stayed silent and Ferdinand chose to close his eyes. He’ll just will himself to sleep. Simple. He will slow his breath, and let his limbs go slack and- 

„It is you, who's gracing me with such rare and lovely expressions today.”

„Crying is hardly lovely, I let you know.” He mumbled, half asleep. Hubert, what a bully, laughing at his crying face. 

„No.” Said a quiet voice, just a little closer than before. With curiosity, Ferdinand peaked through his lashed at his lover. The man reached for him and pulled him even closer, so gentle that Ferdinand could almost feel himself melting just because of the touch but Hubert’s chest was stable and solid under his head. His heartbeat was slowly lulling him to sleep, promising a lack of awful nightmares. „Crying never suited you. But the way the flame reflected in your eyes and hair, illuminated your face... It was as if...” 

His confession was cut short by a quiet snore. Cute sound, one Hubert got used to over the years. With a sigh he reached out for covers and pulled them higher up, covering Ferdinand’s shoulders, still troubled by shivers of cold. He let himself indulge by pressing a chaste kiss to his temple, then a crown of his red hair, and finally setting himself for the night too. Even if he had to be up in less than three hours. 

„It was as if you were the only sacred thing left in that place."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
